


Good

by Lady_Ganesh



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Drunk Sex, Eros Katsuki Yuuri, Friends With Benefits, Kink Discovery, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Voyeurism, and tipsy sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 00:09:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12782625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ganesh/pseuds/Lady_Ganesh
Summary: No. He hadn't known. Hadn't known how it would feel when Yuuri said 'good boy' and heat surged in waves through him.He knew now.Yuuri and Otabek find the post-4CC banquet kind of boring, until they find each other. They fool around while Victor watches. Well, Victor mostly watches, Otabek finds a new kink, and everyone has an excellent night.Thanks to larkscape for looking this over!





	Good

_Silver._ It shouldn't have been as much of a surprise as it was; his odds had never been bad. But with every skater pushing himself further in the last few seasons, with so many PRs and international records falling, Otabek had learned to take nothing for granted.

Silver at 4CC, a handful of points behind the world record FS holder. More sponsorships, more visibility. More support for Kazakh skating, in the ISU and in his own country. It felt like he was walking through a dream.

JJ had been gracious, or at least what JJ's concept of gracious was, and Otabek knew his congratulations were sincere. Phichit and Guang-Hong seemed genuinely excited for him, and Leo had sent him a clip from the song he’d been working on for next season. The American skater was thrilled with his own standing--the American program had been weak for years--and had called him a role model.

Otabek didn't know what to do with any of it. In his senior debut, he'd done well, and had been met with what felt like a wall of resentment from almost everyone below him. This year was completely different. Everything was different.

The banquet was well past winding down; the room had gone quiet. Otabek wasn't sure why he hadn't gone up to his own hotel room yet. Maybe just inertia. He'd had some champagne, and it reminded him of why he rarely drank. He got a little fuzzy around the edges.

"Bored?" came a voice from just behind him, a little softer and slower than a sober man would sound, his Japanese accent just a little thicker than Otabek was used to.

Otabek turned. He'd seen Yuuri drunk before, though never as drunk as that Grand Prix Final banquet he'd missed. Yuuri wasn't that drunk now, as far as he could tell. Maybe a shade past tipsy. His tie was loose and his smile was easy and warm. He looked as comfortable in his own skin as Otabek currently wasn't, which felt weird. "A little," he said.

"These things are terrible," Yuuri said, leaning into him, close, intimate. Otabek's pulse picked up. Yura had complained that Victor's cologne was too floral. _It's like walking in a fucking garden. Katsudon's is okay. A little like yours, actually. Spicy._

It wasn't the same, but Otabek got what he meant. It smelled good on him.

He looked at Otabek with an expression Otabek hadn't seen before. Appreciative. Appraising. "Wanna get out of here?"

"Where's Victor?"

"Sponsors," Yuuri said. "Don't worry." He hooked Otabek's arm in his own and winked. "Come on. Let's have some fun."

 

Victor came into the hotel room while they were kissing, Yuuri settled in Otabek's lap like he belonged there. He was heavy, but it didn't feel bad, especially every time he ground down and Otabek could feel his cock through his expensive trousers. It was grounding, on a night where nothing had felt attached to reality. A little part of him still wanted to go back to his own room, turn out the light, text his family, pretend none of this had happened.

Otabek wished it would shut up.

Yuuri had said _no, Vitya won’t mind,_ but it still felt strange to have Yuuri shifting his weight, smiling brightly, excited rather than embarrassed. "Viiictor," he said. "Look who I brought home."

Victor nodded at Otabek, pleasantly. "Congratulations," he said, and Otabek wondered if he meant for the medal or Yuuri.

"He said--" Otabek said, feeling something uncertain twist in his gut.

Victor walked over to them. "He said I'd be all right with it?"

Otabek nodded as Victor put his hand on Yuuri's shoulder, affectionately.

Yuuri rubbed his face against Victor's hand like a cat. "Okay?"

"Okay," Victor said. He leaned down and kissed Yuuri's forehead.

Yuuri tipped his chin up and kissed Victor, long, lingering. Otabek’s dick twitched.

Victor stood back up, pushed the hair back from Yuuri's face. "You have your glasses?"

Yuuri smiled and tipped his head toward Otabek. Otabek fished them out of his shirt pocket and handed them to Victor.

"I can keep him distracted, if you want to go back to your room," he offered. "But if you’re enjoying yourself--"

He was. "If you're sure," Otabek said.

"Don't take this as an insult," Victor said softly. "It's not. But you're not the first and you won't be the last. If you're okay with that, we're okay with that."

"Okay," Otabek said. A little part of him was still telling him he wouldn't be doing this if he hadn't had the champagne. But another part of him, a much louder part, was telling him how much he _wanted_ to. "It’s okay if I kiss him?"

Victor nodded.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yeah," Yuuri said, and something in him had changed, gone from genially sexy to intense and focused. "Kiss him. Let me see."

Victor took Otabek's chin and tipped it up, kissed him, soft, sweet, but still intense enough to make Otabek ache. There was a touch on his arm: Yuuri.

Otabek took the cue and broke the kiss.

"Mine tonight," Yuuri said, soft but with no hesitation in his voice. It went straight to Otabek’s cock. "Just mine."

“I see,” Victor said, sounding amused.

The part of Otabek's brain that kept throwing up objections noted that they sounded more like they were talking about a TV remote than a human being, much less one right in the room with them. The drunker, hornier rest of him was finding it really, embarrassingly hot. "Okay," he said.

Yuuri's fingers slid down to Otabek's hand. "Come on," he said. "Let's go to bed."

His fingers wrapped around Otabek's loosened tie and _pulled._

Otabek rose, helpless to stop, and he'd thought 'led around by the dick' was a metaphor but this was coming awfully close. His pants felt too tight, his dick too hard, everything too sensitive.

The room was a suite, and Yuuri pulled him into the bedroom. The bed was big. Yuuri didn't bother pulling off the covers; he spun Otabek around, pushed him down so his ass hit the mattress, kissed him again.

Otabek _hurt,_ he was so hard. Wasn't alcohol supposed to make it harder to get it up? Why the fuck wasn't it working?

Yuuri bit his lower lip and looked at Otabek, head to toe, sizzling heat in his eyes. Otabek could see the swell of his cock through his dress pants. "What do you think we should do with you, Otabek-kun?"

Otabek shook his head, overwhelmed.

"Do you want Victor to watch?"

He couldn't think.

"Oh," Yuuri said, and reached out and stroked Otabek's cheek. "Should we stop?"

 _"No,"_ Otabek said. "Victor--let him. Let him watch."

Yuuri smiled. "Victor," he called. "Come look. Watch what a good boy Otabek-kun is for me. Stay still," he said to Otabek. "I want him to see you just like this."

Otabek held still, locked his eyes on Yuuri. He could hear the footsteps as Victor came into the room.

"Do you want me to talk?" Victor said.

"Not right now," Yuuri said. He glanced at Otabek. “You, too. Stay quiet.” It was a relief, because Otabek couldn't speak a single word. Yuuri stroked Otabek's cheek again, and Otabek couldn't help shuddering.

"You're moving," Yuuri said, gentle chiding rather than real annoyance. "Stay still, now--" He leaned down, kissed him on the lips. "Ah," he said. "That's better." Yuuri stepped back, loosened his own tie and pulled it over his head. He started unbuttoning his shirt, slowly. He wasn't wearing an undershirt.

He let his eyes linger on Yuuri's chest, his arms. Stronger than he looked at a first glance, Otabek knew. Beautiful. Shit, so beautiful.

Yuuri grinned, a little shyly, and pulled the half-unbuttoned shirt over his head. "What do you think? Do you want your clothes off?"

Otabek nodded.

"You can ask me," Yuuri said. "All right? You can say yes, and please. If you want."

"Yes," Otabek said. "Please." It was easier when Yuuri told him what he could say. He didn't know how to ask for what he wanted next. He knew, but the words didn't come. The alcohol and the night and Yuuri made him stupid.

Yuuri stepped forward again, taking his chin in one hand, and kissed him again, this time opening his mouth and sliding his tongue into Otabek's, and that freed him a little, made it easier to think.

"Please," Otabek managed to gasp when they broke apart again. "My clothes--take them off? Please?"

"I'd love to," Yuuri said, and pulled Otabek’s tie loose and off in one smooth motion. "You're so handsome, Otabek-kun. You have such a nice, strong jaw--" He kissed along Otabek's jawline to prove it, then unbuttoned his shirt, slowly. Otabek shuddered as Yuuri's fingers brushed his chest. "Your pants, too?"

Otabek nodded.

Yuuri slid his shirt back off past his shoulders, pressed his mouth to Otabek's collarbone. Sucked. Otabek wanted to thrust his hips up, but he wasn't sure Yuuri would want that. Wasn't sure what Yuuri wanted at all.

"Okay," Yuuri said, his voice steady, calm. He loosened Otabek’s belt, unbuttoned his trousers and slid the zipper down. "Lift up a little?"

Otabek canted his hips up, and Yuuri pulled his boxers and trousers off, one smooth, steady motion, leaving Otabek sitting naked on the edge of the bed. Yuuri pressed a kiss to Otabek's thigh, and Otabek felt his dick twitch again. He wasn’t sure he could get harder.

"You're so good for me," Yuuri said. His voice was so _different_ now. Sure, confident. Sexy. "You've stayed so still. You think you can keep still?"

He nodded again.

"Good boy," Yuuri breathed, and took Otabek in his mouth.

He hadn't bothered teasing, just took him in, steady and smooth, tight, hot suction. Fuck. _Fuck._

Otabek heard Victor moving. Was he touching himself? Or was he waiting, watching?

"Please," he said. "Please--may I touch--please--"

Yuuri sensed the question, looked up at him with deep brown eyes, his mouth never leaving Otabek’s cock. He took Otabek's hand and guided it to his head. Otabek twisted his fingers into Yuuri's hair. He wanted to be gentle, but Yuuri felt so _right,_ and his fingers _grabbed,_ pulled. His skin was over-sensitive, feeling the duvet against his skin, the cool air of the room, Yuuri's smooth hair in his hand. Yuuri's wet, warm mouth. He closed his eyes, let himself focus on the sensations.

Victor was there in the room still, watching. If Otabek opened his eyes, he might--

Yuuri took him further in, and Otabek gulped air, stopped himself from jerking his hips up and slamming his cock into Yuuri's face. God, it felt good. So good. Otabek hadn't realized how much he'd _wanted_ this. He hadn't even suspected the way Yuuri could use his mouth.

He missed Yuuri's voice, though. Wanted to hear it again. Wanted to hear Yuuri praise him, _good boy, good--_

He came too soon, Yuuri sucking at him through the aftershocks, Otabek gripping his hair so tight it _had_ to hurt but not in enough control of himself to stop. He heard his own harsh gasps, then his breathing evening out, slowly, slowly. Otabek’s hands finally lost their grip on Yuuri’s hair, and he let them drop.

"Good?" Yuuri said, standing back up. He clearly knew the answer already.

Otabek nodded.

Yuuri licked his lips. "On your hands and knees? Or do you want to watch me?"

Yuuri Katsuki wanted to fuck him. Was _going_ to.

Otabek tried to get his brain back. He stretched his legs apart and wondered how little it would take to get him hard again.

"Oh," Yuuri said. He traced the inside of Otabek's thigh with a fingertip, and Otabek shuddered. "You don't have to say. Do you want me to decide?" Otabek could see his cock, tenting through his trousers. Yuuri was big. _Fuck._

Otabek nodded. It was easier than thinking.

Yuuri unbuckled his belt. "Do you want me to keep my pants on, or take them off?"

"Off," he said. At least he could say _one_ thing.

Yuuri smiled, approving. "Good," he said. "You’re all right?"

He nodded.

"Is this still okay?"

"Yeah," he said. He bit his top lip, breathed. It was a little scary, how much he wanted this. How right it felt. "It's good."

Yuuri slid his pants off, slowly.

He was _big._ He was wearing light-colored briefs; they looked expensive and soft. There was a wet patch at the front, where the head of his cock had been rubbing. Otabek's mouth watered.

"On or off?" Yuuri said.

"On," Otabek said. "For now."

Yuuri palmed himself through the briefs, then slid his cock deliberately through the slit. "I wish you could see yourself," he said. "You're amazing."

The blood was starting to flood back into Otabek's cock. Fuck, Yuuri looked good. Otabek wondered what Victor was seeing. What Victor was feeling. Being watched was different, a different heat across his shoulders and through his chest. "Good?" Otabek asked.

"You're so good," Yuuri said, pausing. "Oh, Otabek-kun--" His eyes caught Otabek's, and a tiny little smile crossed his face. Otabek had only seen it on the ice, before. Usually before _Eros._ "You should have told me," he said.

"Told you?"

"You're so good for me," he said, his eyes narrowing a little, so it felt like all Yuuri was looking at or thinking of was Otabek, the look on his face. "Such a good boy."

Otabek bit his lip between his teeth, but it didn't matter. He couldn't hide his reaction if he tried.

"You need to tell people or they won’t--" Yuuri's eyes widened a little. "You didn't know?" His free hand, the one not already on his dick, reached out and cupped his chin. "Oh..." His thumb stroked Otabek's jaw. "Oh, Otabek-kun. Vitya, can you get me the lube? I didn't think--"

"Condom?" Victor asked, his voice far too controlled, considering.

Otabek waited.

"He's asking you," Yuuri said, quiet, soft.

Otabek shook his head. "I'm...careful."

"How do you know we are?" Yuuri said, that half-amused smile still on his lips. Otabek wanted to surge up and kiss him, but he was supposed to be staying still, and he wanted to hear Yuuri praise him again. No. He hadn't known. Hadn't known how it would feel when Yuuri said _good boy_ and heat surged in waves through him.

He knew now.

"Trust," he said, because that was easier than forming a sentence. He half-sat up, using his elbows to brace himself.

Victor came into view. His trousers were undone, his cock jutting out from the open fly. "Oh, he is beautiful. Can I--?"

"Kiss him," Yuuri conceded, as he took a tube and a condom packet from Victor's hands. "But don't touch him."

Victor leaned down, one hand on the mattress, his uncut cock dark and stiff, and kissed Otabek again. The faintest hint of stubble was starting on his cheeks and chin. The champagne was starting to turn sour on his breath, but he still tasted good, still was good with his tongue and lips. Otabek wondered what it would feel like if Victor was touching him, too.

Yuuri was enough, though. Yuuri was almost too much.

Yuuri's hands were on Otabek's thighs, lifting them up and apart. "Do you want to lie down?"

Otabek had to break the kiss to answer. "No," he panted. "Good."

Victor kissed him again, kept kissing him as Yuuri's slender fingers slid between his cheeks and found--

He gasped as Yuuri slipped inside him, two fingers at once, and Otabek couldn't help surging up a little, his hips thrusting forward. He let his back drop back onto the mattress. He watched as Victor stood back up again, the heat of his body disappearing as Yuuri's came closer.

"Hold still," Yuuri said, almost a whisper, putting his free hand on Otabek's shoulder. "Just be still. Don't let me hurt you--"

It hurt, a little, but it wasn't a bad hurt. "Don't stop," he said.

Yuuri kissed him, hard, his hand tightening on Otabek's shoulder. "You're so good," he panted, when they parted for breath. "So patient, so--"

His fingers hit Otabek's prostate, and it hit as hard as the praise. Otabek moaned, gasped, closed his eyes and tried to just ride the sensation, but it was so much, too much, he was so fucking hard again. He tried to kiss Yuuri but it was hard to even focus that much. "You're beautiful," Yuuri said. "Watching your exhibition, wanted to pull your jacket off, make you--"

"More," Otabek gasped. "More, fuck, please--"

"You want me in you?"

 _"Please,"_ Otabek stammered. "Please."

"Oh, you're so good," Yuuri said. "Such a good boy for me."

Was that another finger? Fuck. Fuck it was, and Otabek still wanted more. Yuuri was big, and Otabek _wanted_ him, wanted to get fucked so hard he'd see stars.

"Please," he said. "In me--please, Yuuri, please--"

"Patience," Yuuri said. "Patience." His accent had gotten thicker, thick enough that Otabek could hear it. "Want to make it good for you, so good--"

"It's good," Otabek said, "Please, I'm ready, _please--"_

Yuuri pushed in just a little more, just enough, and Otabek's brain shut down. He was moving more than he should, but he couldn't help it, it was too much, not enough--

"Hold on," Yuuri said, whispered, and then--

 _Fuck_ he was big, and Otabek missed Yuuri's fingers on his prostate but the burn of his head was so much, so fucking _much._ Otabek stuffed the back of his hand in his mouth and moaned into it, trying not to be too loud, trying to be--

"Oooh," Yuuri said. "You're _tight,_ aren't you? You're so strong--"

"Please," Otabek said, into his hand, "please, please--"

Yuuri went slow, maddeningly slow. He had Otabek trapped between his arms, Otabek's legs up against his shoulders, and Otabek's heart was pounding, so hard it almost hurt. His skin was burning, his cock ached. He _wanted,_ too overcome to even know what he wanted any more. He couldn't control the noises he was making. Yuuri's weight was grounding, his breath as ragged as Otabek's. He was so, so, careful. So deliberate. Fuck it felt good. _Fuck._

"So good," Yuuri whispered. "Just breathe, Otabek-kun. Just breathe--"

He closed his eyes and breathed, trying to relax himself, wanting it, wanting _more_ so much.

Yuuri's cock hit his prostate before he was all the way in ( _fuck_ he was big), and Otabek threw his head back, squeezed his eyes shut.

“Yes," Yuuri said. "Oh, you look perfect. Perfect." He slid further in, deeper, his breath hitching just a little. "So good. Victor, are you watching?"

Victor made a little strangled noise in the back of his throat.

"Listen to Vitya," Yuuri said. "Listen to what you're doing to him."

Otabek gasped, writhed a little on Yuuri's cock, feeling every inch of him, wanting more, still.

"Stay as still as you can, all right?" Yuuri said. "I don't want to hurt you."

Otabek tipped his chin back, nodded, tried to still his hips. "Please," he said.

Yuuri pulled back, slow, _slow,_ and then thrust back in, and for the first time Yuuri made his own little grunt of pleasure as he moved. Otabek tightened his hands into fists, closed his eyes, let Yuuri take what he wanted, and it wasn't the alcohol and it wasn't the night that was making him want this so much. It was something else, something deeper in him.

Yuuri was talking, half-whispering, in Japanese, and Otabek let the sound wash over him, any words he knew lost in the flood. "So good," he said, switching to English, then Russian, praising him, every word sending another rush through him.

His pace increased, his thrusts getting more confident, harder. Otabek let himself moan a little, then louder as Yuuri reacted to him.

"Do you want to move?" Yuuri said. "Should I let you?"

Otabek nodded, unsure of what Yuuri was asking, but desperate to move.

Yuuri put his hands on Otabek's hips. "Don't let me hurt you," he said, and shifted his weight--

He flipped them, pulling Otabek on top of him.

Otabek's body was screaming. _Move, move._

He moved.

Otabek let his body take the lead, his hips rolling, Yuuri's thighs against Otabek's, Yuuri's cock hitting him, filling him, letting Yuuri's cock hit his prostate like that again and again and again--

His second orgasm hit so hard he saw stars, couldn't move. Yuuri took his hips and thrust up, in, taking over as Otabek tried to hold his body still, tried to control himself. He was faintly, dimly aware of Yuuri coming in him, Yuuri's hands pressing bruises into his hips. Shit, he was going to hurt in the morning.

He didn't regret a second of it.

Otabek finally stilled, gasping for breath, looked down at Yuuri, beautiful, sweating Yuuri with Otabek's come drying on his stomach. He was smiling.

"Thank you," he gasped. "I--"

"Come here," Yuuri said, and pulled him down for another kiss. Otabek slid off his chest, and they kissed for a while, as the world slid back toward something resembling normal.

"I didn't," he said, when he'd mostly come back to himself. "I didn't--I didn't know. That I...that I liked it. Like that."

Yuuri stroked the side of his face. "You're okay?"

"Yeah," he said, wishing he sounded more certain. "I'm okay."

"You can stay with us, if you want," he said. "Or Vitya can walk you back to your room." He grinned, fondly, in Victor's direction. "I think he's composed himself enough."

"I'm fine," Victor said. "You're not as funny as you think you are."

Yuuri looked delighted, and for a second Otabek felt a little surge of jealousy; not so much at Victor or Yuuri but at the bond they had together, the happiness they found in each other. How much they must trust each other, to let Yuuri drag him back to their hotel room and do...all this.

"I should get back to my room," Otabek said. "It'll...it'll look weird."

"Take your time," Yuuri said. "You can use our shower, if you want."

"I'll be okay," he said. "Water...I could use some water, if--"

"I can get water," Victor said. His shirt and tie had come loose at some point, and his fly was still open. "You both--you're not going anywhere."

"We're not going anywhere," Yuuri said, and put an affectionate hand in Otabek's hair. "At least not until he's okay."

"I'm fine," he said.

"You're going to make someone very happy someday," Yuuri said. "Very, very happy."

Otabek felt his face heat. "You don't have to--"

"It's true," Yuuri said. "I had to learn to take a compliment. You should learn now. It'll save you problems. Vitya, is there any champagne left?"

"You've had plenty," Victor said, coming back with two bottles of water. He dropped onto the mattress next to Yuuri, and handed Otabek one. "You want to remember this, don't you?"

"Mmm," Yuuri said, happily.

"I hope--in the morning," Victor said, "if you don't feel right about this--"

"It's what I wanted," Otabek said.

"Still," he said. "Come talk to us. Please." He uncapped the second bottle and handed it to Yuuri.

"And if you want to find us at Worlds," Yuuri said. "Do that." He drank, and Otabek watched his throat work.

Victor did too. "Yura's going to be at Worlds," he said.

"Otabek-kun's a grown man and can make his own choices," Yuuri said.

"You are so drunk," Victor said, and stroked his hair.

"I'd say that sober," Yuuri said. "Probably."

Otabek sat up to drink his water. Yuuri stroked his hip, and maybe he wasn't going to bruise, because it wasn't sore there like he thought it would be. Victor sat fully on the bed and pulled Yuuri's head into his lap, stroking his hair.

It was nice, actually. Otabek almost wished he could stay.

But he didn't want to be sneaking in ahead of his coach's knock, and it was practically morning already. He'd already made enough of a scandal back when he'd pulled Yuri's gloves off on the ice. Who knew what kind of drama sleeping with figure skating's weirdest couple would cause?

He stayed there for a little while, though, long enough for Yuuri to half-fall asleep next to him. Victor, as promised, walked him back to his room, making cheerful small talk.

By the time he got back to his room, he felt grounded again. He still let Victor kiss him goodnight at the door, soft, brief. "Let me know how you are in the morning," he said. "A text at least, all right?"

"I will," he said. He held on to Victor for a little too long. "He'll be all right, right?"

"He's fine," Victor said. "I'm fine, all right? Yuuri's right. You'll make someone very happy someday. You made us happy tonight."

"Okay," he said. "Thank you. Again."

Victor pressed his lips to Otabek's forehead. "Get some sleep. Yuuri's hangover and I will see you in the morning. All right?"

"All right," he said, and went into his room. The sheets were cool on his skin, and he slept, dreamlessly, until his alarm went off. He rolled onto his back, and every abused inch of his body announced itself, feet first. Naproxen with his orange juice again.

There were a dozen texts from Yura waiting for him, but he went for the most recent first. Victor had sent _U OK? Breakfast?_ about the same time that Leo sent _Phichit and Yuuri holding me hostage, say you have to eat breakfast with us. G-H and Victor too. Save me?_

He sent Leo _Let me take a shower and I'll be down. Lobby?_ He sent Victor _Good. Leo already asked, see you soon._

He found his medal still in his jacket pocket and put it on the bedside table for now; he didn't have to check out until 11, and his flight wasn't until the afternoon.

Then he tackled the dozen texts from Yura. He answered the last one first. _No. Not dead._

_WTF happened?_

_Crashed after the banquet._

_Congrats. Silver at worlds too, right?_

_Not if I beat you,_ he wrote, and smiled.


End file.
